Turning Point

by Lisanne Norman

  Kusac was sitting opposite a sullen Guynor when she returned to the camp fire. She could feel him stilling his mind and trying to match Guynor’s: she was also aware of Kusac recoiling from the undisguised hatred that Guynor was projecting.

  “It isn’t easy without your cooperation,” sighed Kusac. “It might even be painful.”

  “I’ve been ordered to submit to your teaching, but no one can make me like it,” snarled Guynor.

  There was no option but to force the initial contact if he had the power. He could get Carrie to help, but with Guynor’s mind in its present state there was no knowing how he’d react. He’d have to do it alone if he could.

  Slowing his breathing, he stilled his mind, gently searching through the wide band of interference that the First Officer was transmitting until he located its source. He had the key, now to put it in the lock. There was no point in gentle probing, it would only be repulsed by Guynor’s barrier of hate. Kusac gathered his energy and sent a sharp, incisive probe deep into the other mind, grasping control firmly and subduing all irrelevant activity. He experienced the gasp of pain and terror that Guynor could not vocalize, but was able to subdue it instantly. Quickly, he located the relevant area of memory and implanted the necessary information.

  Now that he had control of Guynor’s mind, he could withdraw more gently and not cause any further pain. Within moments Guynor was sitting nursing a splitting headache, and Kusac was wondering over the new dimensions to his Talent. An exercise like that should have left him feeling drained for several hours, yet he had used hardly any energy at all. Just as well, considering the pain he was in and that he and Carrie still had work to do.

  Guynor’s gaze followed him as he rose to his feet, and this time there was an element of fear along with the hate.

  Kusac made his way to where Carrie was talking to Vanna. “Let’s go and find this pod,” he said.

  “Do we know what we’re looking for?” Carrie asked.

  “Ah ... No.”

  “Wouldn’t it be a good idea to find out first?” she suggested.

  “Captain?” called Kusac. “What does the pod look like?”

  “I’m afraid I have no idea. I suspect that it was probably cone shaped to reduce friction on entry. By now it should have some exterior manipulatory protrusions-grabs and such—to take soil samples,” he replied. “If it’s any help, just look for a large body of metal.”

  “Great,” muttered Kusac, taking Carrie by the elbow and leading her through the trees.

  “Why do we need to come here to work? If you could handle Guynor in the camp, why can’t we locate the pod?”

  “We need the privacy to work,” he said shortly.

  “Kusac, what are you hiding from me?” she asked, coming to a halt.

  “Nothing that I know, believe me,” he replied, trying to draw her on.

  “We are too close for that. What are you hiding that you don’t know?” she asked, refusing to move.

  Kusac sighed and ran his hands across his ears in exasperation. “Look, I don’t know anything, remember that. I just recall that newly bonded Leskas work in privacy until they can control the ... the intimacy of their linking.”

  “Oh,” said Carrie in a small voice, allowing herself to be led forward. “Could this have happened to us that first night in the woods?”

  “Maybe,” he replied, squeezing her arm reassuringly. “I don’t know. I don’t remember. Do you?” he asked, looking at her.

  “No,” she said hesitantly, then chuckled.

  Catching her thought, Kusac grinned. “I know, if it had, you’d like to have remembered it. Me, too,” he said, stopping to caress her cheek. “I think we’re safe enough here. Let’s get comfortable,” he said, moving over to sit with his back against a tree. “You sit in front of me, like that. Now lean back. That’s right.” He put his arms around her. “Now relax, make your mind still. When we link, I want you to let me guide you in the search, so listen for my instructions. We’re going to imagine we’re drifting above the trees, then across the swamp, looking down on the land below till we find this pod.”

  His voice was getting softer and softer, and Carrie felt herself begin to link with him. The whirlpool of sensations drew them slowly together until she felt her own identity begin to dissolve into Kusac’s.

  Now we rise above the trees, Leska, came Kusac’s/her thought.

  It was slightly unnerving to look down and see themselves still sitting at the base of the tree as they moved leisurely toward the swamp.

  Let’s go higher to start with, so we can see the extent of the swamp. Good. We don’t know exactly what it looks like, so try to tune into any electrical activity in case the pod is still transmitting.

  I sense activity from the valtegan coastal base, but nowhere else in the vicinity, she replied.

  Then try for metal objects.

  The base swamps my senses again.

  We’ll have to quarter it, then. Tune your range down to a few feet in any direction.

  For what seemed hours, they searched up and down the length of the swamp until Carrie finally sensed something. They homed in on it and found a mound of what looked like vegetation sitting near the center of one of the multi-trunked trees.

  That’s it, thought Kusac, and it appears the Gods are with us. The ground feels solid. Can you remember the location?

  Now that I can visualize it exactly, there will be no problem, she replied.

  Let’s return. Our job is done for the moment.

  Swiftly they returned to where their bodies lay undisturbed on the ground.

  It seems we have found how to control our Link, thought Carrie.

  This task was easier than I anticipated, responded Kusac. Time-consuming, but not difficult. Remember, our bond is unique. We have no one else’s experiences to learn from. We will continue to work in privacy for now. Besides, he continued, his tone of thought humorous, at the moment it’s the only time we get alone, and we both enjoy it. He let his feelings come to the surface, and for a precious few moments they relaxed in a glow of mutual pleasure.

  Wistfully, they parted and returned once more to their own identities, still sharing the moment but on a less enhanced level.

  Kusac’s arms tightened round her, and his rough tongue found just the right spot behind her ear. He sighed. “We must return to the camp, Leska.”

  When they got back, everyone was packed and ready to leave except for Vanna, who met them with steaming mugs of c’shar and some emergency rations.

  “I’ve worked with the Talented before, Kusac, so I knew that you would need the food and drink to rebuild your energy levels. We’re ready to leave when you’ve finished.”

  “Thanks, Vanna. I should have thought to ask you before we left,” said Kusac gratefully.

  Garras came striding over to them. Mito followed him, carrying Kusac’s waistcoat which he had left behind when they went to Seaport.

  “Did you find the pod?” asked Garras.

  “Yes, Carrie can lead us there. It’s northeast.” He took the jacket and belt that Mito held out, slipping it on and getting Carrie to buckle it up. Mito got a brief flick of his ears by way of acknowledgment.

  Vanna descended on him with a sling for his injured arm and spirited away the mugs.

  “Skai, how does that correspond to your route through the swamp?” asked Garras, turning to where the Terran stood.

  “We can start out on it, but when we get level with the pod it’s all new territory,” he replied, putting his heavy jacket on against the chill morning air.

  “You lead, then, with Carrie and Kusac behind,” said Garras, picking up his pack.

  Skai looked round at his following of Sholans. They looked very agile, virtually all solid muscle honed for action. Like a pack of guerrilla jungle cats walking upright. He sighed inwardly, feeling very much in the minority.

  “Can I give you a piece of advice?” he asked. “Your feet are bare, watch where you stand and keep your tails
up unless you want the fish or the crocs to think they’re food.”

  Four tails flicked in irritation. The owner of the fifth grinned and squeezed Carrie’s arm.

  “Naturally,” muttered Mito, falling in behind Vanna as they followed Skai into the clearing and across to the edge of the swamp.

  “Step where I step,” Skai’s voice floated back to them as they jumped from tussock to tussock.

  Every now and then they stopped while Skai checked the solidity of the next part of the route.

  The piece of ground on which Carrie and Kusac were standing was quite large, supporting several small bushes and plants. Over one of them hovered a large butterfly, its wings glowing with pearly iridescence.

  “Oh, what a lovely butterfly!” exclaimed Carrie, bending toward it.

  “Stop her!” yelled Skai, dropping his stick. He swung round and leapt back to their island.

  Kusac hauled frantically at the girl, pulling her back from where the creature was hovering.

  Skai landed beside them and swatted at it with the pack he was carrying. “There aren’t any butterflies on this planet. It’s a flying leech, and poisonous.”

  The “butterfly” backed off, hovering over the swampy ground at about chest height.

  “Let me,” said Garras, stepping forward and pulling out a small pistol. A faint beam of energy hit the creature, incinerating it in a burst of flame.

  “Handy toy,” said Skai, eyeing the smoking remains thoughtfully. “You don’t happen to have any spares, do you? We could do with a few ourselves.” He reached into his pack, fumbling about for a moment or two, then drew out what appeared to be a broad metal bracelet with a raised circular device set in the center.

  “It might be arranged,” replied the Captain, watching Skai curiously as he returned the gun to his weapons’ belt. “What does the leech do?”

  “Burrows into your skin. It has to be cut out, not a pleasant experience for anyone. Stay clear of the water and anything that moves on the dry areas, and we might just make it to this pod of yours in one piece.

  “I’ve still got my sonic bug screen with me, but there isn’t much charge left in it, only a few hours. It’s good for up to a ten-meter radius, so stay close.

  “Let’s get moving. It isn’t even safe to stay in one place for long.”

  “Are you all right?” Kusac asked Carrie.

  She shuddered. “I’m fine,” she replied, forcing herself to jump over the gap of water to the next dry islet.

  The next couple of hours passed uneventfully until Carrie called a halt.

  “We have to go west from here,” she said. “Would it be safe to stop for a few minutes?” she asked Skai. “I think we could all do with a rest and a drink.”

  “Make it quick,” he replied. “I could do with one myself, but our presence in one spot for any length of time tends to attract the carnivores, not to mention Valtegan air patrols.”

  They were strung out over three patches of ground, about as safe as they could be given the circumstances.

  Vanna and Mito were carrying homemade water packs, which they passed out down the line.

  “Leave some for later,” warned Vanna. “We can’t be sure there is a working water purifier in the pod.”

  “I’ll test the swamp ahead and tell you when to follow,” said Skai, probing the ground in front of him with his stick.

  “I wondered what that was for,” murmured Carrie, taking a long swig of water.

  The air in the swamp was warm and humid. She had been feeling hot and sticky since they’d left. On top of that, she had the Mother and Father of all headaches. Squinting her eyes against the sunlight, she handed the water back.

  “Let’s go,” said Skai.

  Ahead of them grew several of the multi-trunked trees that were specific to the wetter swampy areas of Keiss. They grew fairly tall, with broad branching limbs that dipped toward the water, sending down myriads of rootlets from which sprang new trees. It created a network of spreading branches, almost a pathway, above the treacherous waters of the swamp. Unfortunately, the trees were fairly well spaced out, making it impossible to rely on them alone for a safe passage to the area they wanted.

  Skai took two or three moves before he signaled the others to follow. The strain of this section of the journey was intense. Twice Mito slipped into the water and had to be pulled out quickly.

  Garras stopped on a piece of sandy ground for a breather. The Captain was the oldest of the Sholans, and the trip was beginning to tell on him. He tried to move and found his feet stuck in the wet sand. He pulled harder but found himself sinking even lower. Yowling in protest, he drew the others’ attention to him.

  Kusac leapt back to where Garras was sinking deeper and deeper into the quicksand. Grabbing him by the arm, he tried to haul him free.

  “Leave him for me!” shouted Skai, racing back to where the two males were struggling. “That isn’t the way to free him!” He shouldered Kusac out of the way and took hold of both of the Captain’s arms, pulling him slowly toward the dry ground. Garras was now up to his knees in the treacherous ground.

  Skai transferred his grip to the Sholan’s back and forced him to lie flat on his stomach.

  “Not you, you’re injured,” he said to Kusac. “Guynor, over here.” The two of them moved round to where Garras’ legs had begun to emerge from the sand. “Pull,” ordered Skai, hauling sideways on one limb. Guynor grabbed the other leg and began to haul, wincing a little at the pain in his forearm. Slowly they pulled him forward until, with a last sucking sound, he was free. Garras lay shaking convulsively for several minutes while they all recovered from the shock of his sudden brush with death.

  Skai looked around to make sure the others were safe and noticed the water beginning to swirl beside them.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here. The vultures are gathering,” he said, getting to his feet. “We’ll stop when we get to the tree. At least we’ll be safe there.”

  “What is it?” asked Mito, fascinated by the turbulence. She picked up a stone and tossed it into the middle.

  “I wouldn’t,” Skai called back.

  Mito took a step back just as a small mud-colored reptile surged up out of the water at her. She screeched, jumping back farther so it landed at her feet.

  A brief flare and it died. Guynor put his pistol away.

  “Frogs with teeth,” said Skai. “Cute, aren’t they?”

  He moved back to his lead position while the others followed as quickly as the terrain and their tired bodies would allow. Before long, the last one had been hauled up to safety on one of the lower branches of the tree.

  “We’ll have a meal stop now,” said Vanna, checking Kusac’s reopened wound despite his protests. She took a pressure hypoderm and an ampoule out of her bag and proceeded to administer another analgesic.

  “Kusac won’t be able to travel again until this takes effect.” She looked up as she put her instruments away. “Besides, we’re all done in.”

  “It’s not as bad as she makes out,” Kusac muttered to Carrie, but she noticed he cradled his right arm in his lap. Gratefully, they accepted the food and water as it was passed down to them.

  “At least it isn’t dried meat,” said Carrie, leaning back against the main trunk. “I’ve had more than enough to last a lifetime.” She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on reducing the pounding in her head to a bearable level.

  “Well, your wounds are beginning to heal nicely,” Vanna said tartly, giving Guynor’s ear a cursory glance. “Luckily, the wound on your arm is minor. Kusac had the decency to only bite, not tear like you did. You’ll live.” With that, she clambered back to her place beside Carrie.

  Garras pulled a blanket from his pack and began trying to clean some of the mud off his fur, an almost impossible task without water. He was leaning forward to dip the end of the blanket in the water below when the peace of exhaustion was broken by an agonized yowl from Guynor.

  Food went flying as he almos
t overbalanced and fell off the branch. He scrabbled frantically for a hold, finally managing to sink all four sets of claws into the bark and pull himself back up.

  Frozen with shock, the others watched as his tail whipped up to thump against the branch with a wet thwack.

  “In the Gods’ names, get it off!” he yowled, his voice high and penetrating. “Get it off!”

  Mito lunged for the afflicted tail, but the pain was so intense that Guynor was unable to keep it still and it whipped about as if it was independently alive.

  Snatching up Skai’s stick, Carrie leaned forward. “Grab his tail at the base,” she ordered Mito. As soon as the Sholan had it pinned down, Carrie pounced on the middle section and gave the fish several hard thumps with the stick.

  Guynor’s face was still contorted with pain, but his tail was only twitching faintly now. Mito grabbed it by the end and examined the dead creature cautiously as Vanna clambered over to them.

  Handling his tail as gently as possible, Vanna turned it this way and that before speaking.

  “I’ll have to cut the fish off, Guynor. Even dead, those jaws are locked solid,” she said.

  “Do it,” he hissed between gritted teeth, keeping his face turned away from Skai.

  Vanna pulled her hunting knife and hesitated. “Do you want an analgesic first?” she asked.

  “Just do it,” he moaned, trying to control the involuntary flicking of his injured tail.

  Vanna inserted her knife as far as possible into the fish’s mouth and sawed away at the heavy jawbone. It was a slippery and unpleasant job and several times the knife slipped, narrowly missing both her and Guynor. At last she was able to pry apart the jaws. She handed the fish to Carrie, who looked at the massive array of teeth with a shudder before giving it to Kusac.

  Now that Guynor’s tail was free, Vanna could see that there was no permanent damage. She got out her antiseptic and analgesic spray and coated the whole wound with the sealant.